


Escape from the Green (What price my life?)

by kaijulvl5



Series: Escape from the Green [1]
Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Begging, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Ezra talks a lot, F/M, First Time, Forced Prostitution, Graphic Description, Loss of Virginity, Non-Consensual Becomes Consensual, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Touching, Outer Space, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, STDs aren't an issue in this universe, Science Fiction, Slow Build, Smut, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Undressing, Unprotected Sex, Use of the C Word, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Virginity, coerced sex, wrap it before you tap it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijulvl5/pseuds/kaijulvl5
Summary: Alternate storyline where an original female character's thrower doesn't work when Ezra gets into the pod and he gets the upper hand. It turns out Ezra wants off the moon without pursuing the Queen's Lair and also wants our main character, Farra. Graphic descriptions of sex, non-consensual first half, coerced agreement to sex and consensual despoiling of a virgin.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect 2018)/OC, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/OFC, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Original Female Character
Series: Escape from the Green [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014753
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Escape from the Green (What price my life?)

After he had shot and killed her partner and aimed the same weapon at her, she had turned and run for the pod. The violence of it all had blanked her mind, a protective blackout that activated her lizard-brain and sent her fleeing at top speed. Luckily, the dangerous man had not followed, and she was able to retreat to the relative safety of the drop pod. 

In a panic that bordered on hysteria, she had followed the instruction manual and managed to get it prepped for launch. Then, just as she thought she would actually make it off this poisoned moon, something in the fundamental internals fried and she was left stranded. Without a working knowledge of ship repair, the craft was no more useful to her than a tent. The disappointment and despair she felt had almost broken her. 

Half a cycle later, she had burned through the remaining stores of food and water they hadn’t taken with them, and was left with some crappy stimulant gum she found in a folderbin. The only effect of that escapade had been to let her forget her hopeless situation for an hour or two.

As she completed her latest fruitless rummage, steps sounded on the entry stairs. The outer hatch slammed and the scrubber fans began processing. Panic overtook her once more. That noise meant she had only a moment to grab the rifle and slide behind the inadequate cover of the pilot’s seat, past the low center bulkhead, before the intruder got into the cabin. 

Tucked as far back as she could get, she shifted the safety off. Instead of the telltale whine, the gun remained silent. She was still fuzzy from the after effects of the gum, so it took a split second to register what was wrong. A curt shake of her head to clear it, and it came back to her.  _ Oh SHIT!  _ She hadn’t restored the charge!  _ Shit shit shit _ . She repeated the curse in her mind as she clicked the charge cartridge into the loading piece. Why hadn’t she locked the outside hatch when she came back? A self-castigating litany played in her head with each turn of the small rotating lever that added a little power to the cartridge, added a little hope to her rushed plan to get the upper hand. 

Without a loaded firearm, there was no possibility of competing against anything on this moon. She had always tried to make the most of her small size, but being just over 152 cm tall and 50 kilos was a challenge on the best days. And the only other human she had seen still alive was the murderer. The man who had tried to rob her partner and then, when the tables turned and then turned again, had brutally gunned him down in cold blood. That had to be who was coming through the hatch. 

She cycled the crank one more time and jammed the magazine into the body of the weapon. The firing bolt clicked and she thumbed off the safety right as his helmet and shoulders cleared the opening. And the goddamned contraption stayed silent. Shit. There was nothing she could do. If the charge hadn't been completed, the piece was useless. 

He led with the pistol, getting his bearings. Slowly, methodically he scanned the small space. The environment suit he wore was ungainly and the half textile helmet fell slightly forward or to the side, depending on how he moved. It looked like it was hard to wear. 

“Stop right there!” She yelled, deciding a bluff was her only option. “Stop moving and put the thrower down or I will shoot!”

He actually scrambled backward up against the wall, but did not drop the gun. Instead, he stared her down, having found her position quickly. As he carefully examined every detail of the scene, a slow, cocky smile stretched his face. “I can observe from here, your thrower is not primed, sweetheart. I do believe I have the upper hand at this particular moment.”

His self-satisfied smirk, the casual condescending endearment, and the calm way he drawled the words slapped her. Her face fell and the blood drained from her head. She felt faint, but somehow managed to keep herself upright. 

“So I will be seein’ you place your weapon on the floor, and now, I might add. Do it.” There was an uncompromising hardness in his eyes as he commanded her. His aim did not waver. 

There was no choice. She lowered the energy rifle to the floor, then raised her hands over her head. She wished she were wearing her heavy environmental suit and not the soft lounge-wear she had changed into hours ago. The normally modest top rode up and left part of her belly exposed. Her pants were loose around her hips, but the light blue fabric clung to her skin. She felt like she was on display and it added another knot to her stomach. 

The murderer’s gaze had changed when she revealed herself. A troublesome interest played across his face as he watched her. Settling comfortably against the bulkhead, he looked like the cat who had found the proverbial bowl of cream.

“I do not wish for this to be an unfriendly occasion, but we have something of accord to come to. You see, I am in a predicament. I cannot leave on my own ship. The series of unfortunate events that have led me to your doorstep left me deprived of transportation. You, on the other hand have this decrepit drop pod, but it may prove to be my salvation.”

She noticed he had said “my”, not “our” and she refused to be removed from the equation. Interjecting when he paused to draw a breath, she said simply, “Don’t leave me here”. 

His eyes glittered, crinkling up at the corners, “Now, my sweet girl, I would not dream of such a thing. This is a part of our accord, of which we have just begun to negotiate.” 

He meant to negotiate with her, as if she had any power or something of value in this situation. Her jaw hung ajar with surprise. He was the one with the weapon. He could push her out of the airlock or take her, whichever was his will, then fix the ship and leave without a second glance if he wanted. This made no sense.

He looked at her thoughtfully, smiling amiably, “Do please close your mouth. That slack jawed visage is not becomin’ on you.” 

Her teeth made an audible click when she snapped it shut. “What do you want?” She asked pointedly.

At her question, his face turned mocking, tinged with interest and not a little humor. His eyebrows drew together and he pressed his head back against the wall, a moue evident on his lips. “For starters, I would dearly like to be free of this godforsaken helmet. However, I do not think you will allow me a moment of security in which to remove it. So let us proceed with your disablement. Please take this and assist me in bindin’ yourself.” With his free hand he tossed her a hank of light cording that he had detached from his suit. 

She held the rope, not sure what he wanted her to do. It was not her custom to tie herself up. Her confusion must have been evident, because he said, “Make a slip knot with a loop. Yes, like that. Now place your hands in the loop and tighten it down, just so.” He nodded as she followed his direction. 

His features shifted from pleasant to grim so quickly, it was hard for her to read his expressions. Her hands shook as she complied. Each step in the process pulled her farther from freedom. Not that she had had any hope of that even before his arrival, though. Her feeling of doom grew and she tried to watch for any weakness, but he stayed at the other side of the room. Too far for her to make an effective move against him. 

“Thank you. I will take it from here,” he said.

Faster than she thought possible, he pushed off from his falsely relaxed sprawl and closed the space between them. There was no time to react before her wrists were clasped in his left hand, his small firearm placed hard against her abdomen. 

When he held her securely, he let his thrower hang from his trigger finger and bound her wrists tightly with the rest of the cord. She tried to jerk away from his harsh, bruising grasp, but he gave her a vicious shake that rattled her body. There was no question in her mind after that. She was not strong enough to pull free. 

From there he pushed her into the copilot’s seat and strapped her in, positioning her tied arms so that they were further restrained under the X-shaped harness. Then he yanked the adjusters hard, securing her and spun the chair to face the center of the room. Satisfied with his work, he stood up and removed his helmet in a single fluid motion. 

“Kevva be damned, but that was unpleasant,” he declared gustily, breathing in a deep lungful of the air in the shelter. “My filter has been fouled for some time and I was approachin’ the end of my ability to draw breath in this putrid thing.” 

He smiled at her again, showing straight, white teeth. His dark moustache made them look brighter than they should have been. He appeared to be in his early forties with short, messy hair, which was brown except for a small patch of blonde at the hairline above his right eye. A thin U-shaped scar curled across his left cheek and his sharp nose, high cheekbones and scruffy chin were sheened with the sweat. A thoroughly disreputable person, if she had ever seen one.

“What. Do. You. Want?” She asked again, this time through gritted teeth. Her will to continue requesting information was growing thin. He seemed to want to talk about only the subject he wished at any given moment. And talk he did. 

He said, “I have a proposal for you, little bird,” his tone contemplative. He paced the small space and lifted his hands, gesturing philosophically. “You ask me what I want and I want many things. I want to be off this damned hell hole. I want to be divested of my harvest in such a way that leaves me well provided for and provisioned for the future.” He stalked toward her, his eyes thoughtful, roaming her face. 

“Wants are funny things,” he continued. “A thought gets in your head and can’t be shaken and then you find yourself wanting. I want to take a cabana on the shores of Lao, to watch the suns set and put all thought of this awfulness behind me. I want all the comforts credits can buy and long, warm days and nights in which to enjoy them. I also find that I want,” he paused, bracing his weight as he gripped the arms of the seat. His face was inches from hers. He looked her squarely in the eyes and said frankly,” I also find that I want...you.”

She was shocked into silence for the second time in only a few moments. What could she say? Did he think he could buy her? Did he think he had a chance of her not trying to take his life the moment he let his guard down? Life was cheap in this system and he could have his pick of feminine company back at the Pug, or whatever sleazy world he would hie off to from here. What could he want with her?

“By your yet again drop-jawed demeanor, I assume it is a rare occurrence that someone expresses to you their designs on your person,” he said. He tilted his head back and eyed her quizzically. The long, strong column of his throat was exposed to her shocked gaze. 

“I don’t know what to say,” she rasped. She blinked, trying to break her fascination with his audacity, presenting his vulnerable throat so close to her. He must believe her to be well in hand, indeed. She wriggled in the seat, but couldn’t gain an inch. Her lips were dry and her head was spinning. “I don’t understand,” she said.

He inclined his head toward her, as if imparting a secret, “This may come as a surprise to you, but I am a man with needs, just like any other. You are here, convenient, of the feminine persuasion and, if I do say so myself, appear to be quite delectable.” He suggestively ran the back of a gloved hand from her cheek down her neck. He paused for a beat at her shoulder, then continued over her breast to the swell of her hip, finally resting his open palm there. His fingers curled posessively into her yielding flesh. 

“I believe you will be able to assist me in that regard, should we come to an agreement. I also wish to attain my goals of escape and sales of my aurelac with all of my parts intact. In short, I want to have my cake and eat it too.” He grinned as if he was saying the simplest things in the world to an equal, not manhandling a captive. 

He was wrong about her rarely being propositioned. That wasn’t the case. It was just that no one ever talked to her or handled her that way when she couldn’t run away. Every other time that she had been confronted with this type of attention, she had been able to duck and run. She had eluded the rough hands and catcalls of the prospectors and hub toughs by hightailing it away from them. This man with his hands on her, making such suggestions was worse than those assholes, by far. He was responsible for her friend’s death and he had her tied and helpless, dependent on him in every way. He held the power of life or death over her and there was nowhere to run this time. 

She found her voice, hoarse and hesitating, ”You will get us off this rock and away safe if I, um...” She swallowed dryly and looked down to where his hand still rested heavily on her body. She found she could not quite bring herself to say the words. Her tongue peeked out to try to wet her lips, instead.

He looked her up and down, like a big cat considering its prey. His thoughts were obvious on his face. “Yes,” he said.

The brevity of his reply hammered home to her how serious he was. The ideas rushing through her mind gave her pause. It made her feel ill and not a little afraid, but what choice did she have, really? 

“For how long?” She asked, pragmatically. 

“Now that is somethin’ we should revisit frequently, as long as we are acquainted,” he said. Stepping backward, he seated himself on the center bulkhead. Shoulders canted forward, knees open, forearms resting lightly on his thighs, hands loose. A truthful stance, if she could be convinced that anything about this person was truthful. He continued, uninterrupted, “I would expect a period of no less than 30 cycles for you to remain in my company. During that time, you will make yourself available to me to assuage my desires as I see fit. On my part, I assure you, I will expect nothin’ from you that could be considered too far outside the realm of normalcy. You, however, shall retain no such restriction, should you choose to initiate events of your own devising.” he leered at her dangerously. The space between them was not nearly far enough for her liking. “That is fair enough for the exchange of your life and freedom, you will agree?” He asked.

“14,” she rebutted. “14 cycles.” Where had that come from? Was she really going along with this? Who knew what kind of perverted freak he was under all the flowery words? But staying here meant certain death and he didn’t really have to involve her in the decision making process, after all. For all his crimes and questionable behavior, he seemed bent on gaining her agreement, even if it was in all actuality, coerced. 

“21,” he grinned and leaned in close enough that she could smell his sweat and the dirt that clung to his suit. 

“20 cycles, ten points off your sale, and I’m free after,” she tossed quickly, not knowing where she was finding the strength to come back at him like this. He had her tied. He could take what he wanted. He could and she couldn’t stop him. But instead he was negotiating. What kind of man was this?

“Ten points? You are a mercenary after all,” he said, shaking his head. “We have ourselves a deal, birdie,” his smile grew broader, if that was possible. He removed his gloves, took her bound hands in both of his hard callused ones and gave them a brief shake. Then he turned to begin his work on the blackened panels that had billowed smoke much earlier. 

Some time later, he broke from his tinkering and declared, “As good as it will get, I suppose. Let us see if we can throw ourselves from this mortal coil to the waiting orbit which will gain us our future.” 

The starter key had been pulled as part of his repair checks and he now reinserted it. The launch process began. He flicked the switches and primed the machine, the same as she had done, but with a much different result. The mechanism purred quietly and he strapped himself into the pilot’s seat.

Barely a rumble disturbed the quiet pod. These last few moments had been the most peaceful since he had taken over. As he worked, he had not stopped talking. Anecdote after anecdote spilled from his lips as he regaled her. Talking and breathing seemed to be one and the same for this man. After the first half hour of non-stop speech from him, she had ceased giving him her full attention out of self preservation. Anyone who spoke that much could not possibly care if anyone was listening.

Instead, she had thought about her situation. The number of double-crosses leading up to this moment played in her mind. Damon had been greedy, yes, but this man had waylaid him in the first place. It was all too much for her to process, but she was here, now, and she had made a tacit agreement with the ruffian. For some reason, perhaps out of some deep denial, she was beginning to allow herself to believe in this deal they had struck. Nothing to do but bide her time. If an opportunity arose that allowed her to remove herself from the situation, she would take it, deal or no deal.

Trussed as she was, she had lost most of the feeling in her extremities after the second hour, but refused to speak up. Not out of fear this time. No, she remained silent from pure stubbornness, she admitted to herself. Not giving her captor the satisfaction of her needing anything from him was, as she saw it, the only power she held at the moment.

The takeoff was surprisingly uneventful for an aged, abused and overused rental. They attained orbit with the minimum of effort. The craft settled easily into its floating circuit of the green moon, matching the future track of the slingback’s return trip. 

A voice came to her through the disorientation she always experienced when being shot through the air at high speeds. It had never been bad enough that she had actually passed out, but the dark spots were familiar friends. Her eyes opened and she blinked them away. “What?” She slurred. 

He shook her shoulder. “I said, are you with me, girl?” His voice sounded sharp and irritated. The grav-plates had kicked on during stabilization and he stood over her, bending to examine her. He tilted her head back and lifted her eyelids one at a time, checking her pupils. 

She twisted her head away sharply and lifted her eyes to his. She tried to focus on his face. His worried face. He was worried about her? “Yes. I’m here. Just launch sickness. I’ll be fine in a minute.” She blinked hard and stretched her jaw, trying to find her equilibrium. 

“I am pleased to hear that. It would have been an unfortunate thing to have lost you after all the trouble we have gone through. To have it all be for naught would be sore disappointing. But here you are and right as rain by your own admission.” Satisfied that she wasn’t in a worse state than she was letting on, he turned away from her and began the process of removing his environment suit. 

The stories he told while performing the repairs had droned on so long that she had gotten lost in her own head. When they had launched, she was distracted by the physical effect it had on her and had momentarily forgotten her plight. Seeing his broad shoulders being revealed like that brought it all rushing back. He was wearing a thin navy blue shirt, but watching him remove the heavily woven, treated suit signified one less layer of separation between them. 

Her blood ran cold and she closed her eyes tightly. She took the extra precaution of facing the ceiling, trying to deny the situation her attention as long as possible. He would want her to make good on her bargain. Their time “together” had begun. 20 cycles and it would be over. Or sooner, if she had the opportunity. Her face flamed. She was to be his whore, or worse.  _ What price for my life?  _ she thought.

To her surprise, he didn’t approach her immediately. In addition to his pattering, pointless speech, she heard shuffling noises, folderbins opened and closed. It sounded like he was moving around the cabin straightening up. He had launched into another of his stories. This time about a rough takeoff he had experienced off some world or another, during another of his myriad harvests. Truth or fiction, she could not tell. His voice changed places around the room as the other noises subsided and then his steps drew close behind her.

“And so here I am. Another successful pull, minus a few colleagues and on my way again. Lucky to have met you, but have I really met you, girl? I do not even know your name.” She thought he must have seated himself on the same bulkhead as earlier. There was a bump as he disengaged the safety lock and then she felt the chair swivel. He meant for her to face him. Her eyes squeezed even harder. She wouldn’t answer him. Her lips pressed into a firm white line.

“Come now, I must call you somethin’ for the duration. Little bird is fine as an endearment, but as a name it is severely lacking. Do not be obstinate at this late hour,” he entreated. 

_ What was the point of not giving him my name? _ She thought.  _ He will probably make one up and call me that if I don’t tell him. Or pry through my journals.  _ “My name is Farra.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Farra. I am Ezra, if you had not gathered that from your eavesdroppin’ expedition in that poxy forest. I would be still better served if you would also open your eyes for me. This is no way to carry on a conversation. Very rude, indeed,” he scolded.

He still had not touched her, and she felt odd with her eyes shut so hard, so she squinted them open a bit. If he wasn’t decent, she would close them quickly and just continue pretending to be blind. But he was wearing a pair of lightweight long john pants and the dark navy t-shirt she had glimpsed earlier. His long, muscular arms were lightly furred, and he had taken a moment in his chores to wipe off some of the accumulated grime from his face and body. He looked almost presentable, if still very dangerous.

“Thank you for that,” Ezra said, smiling warmly at her. “It is disconcerting to speak to a seein’ person who will not acknowledge they are in the same room as the one who is speakin’. I believe we have a few details to hammer out before we get down to brass tacks, as it were.”

Farra’s eyes went wide and she leaned back hard into her seat. Her hands and legs were tingling and she couldn’t make them move. In fear again, fear that hadn’t really left, she said calmly, as if she had any control of anything, “Okay.”

He stood up hastily, startling her further. He put his hands out in front of himself several centimeters apart, palms up, showing her he wasn’t hiding anything. Regardless of his efforts, his approach made her compress herself farther into her seat.

“I just need to check somethin’ here, Farra. Do not be afraid,” he said, as he brushed her hair away from her neck. He gently pushed on the back of her head until she angled it down and away from him. “Ah, yes,” he murmured. “I see you are still current.”

Keeping her fertility inhibitor implant current was a prerequisite of all the outer belt hubs. A woman couldn’t get past onboarding without one, but leave it to a man to not know that. These communities controlled their population strictly and any possibility of adding another life to the stacks was anathema. Supplies were always scarce out here. Food, water, oxygen, all of it had to be carefully calculated and regulated. 

“Of course it is,” she said, looking up at him from an angle, her blond hair falling in her face. “You could have just asked.” A bright red blush crept up her neck and stained her cheeks.  _ So this was how it would go. _

“Certainly I could have asked, but would you have told me true?” He asked. “I do not know that you would,” he mused, answering his own question. Switching his focus back to her, he asked abruptly, “How many years do you have?” 

“20 standard,” she answered, matter of factly.

“I see, then. That is favorable, as well. It had not occurred to me to inquire earlier. Your petite size gave me a moment’s concern, but I am glad I judged correctly. I did say that we would commence shortly, didn’t I? Or did I fail to mention…” he trailed off, his attention drifting again.

She shook her head, “I can’t feel my hands. I think the circulation has been cut off for too long, Ezra.” It felt strange to say his name, all things considered. However, if he was going to insist on this “commencing”, as he put it, she didn’t want to be any more impaired than she was at the moment.

“Why did you not say so sooner?” He knelt, bringing his hands to hers, lifting and examining them carefully. “You are white as bone, my dear. This will not do.” He began to loosen the ties, but then stopped suddenly and looked her in the eyes. “Do I have your word that you will behave? I would not want to cause you undue harm through some stupid idea of yours gone wrong.” His eyes narrowed as he said this last.

Farra’s hands were indeed white, having lost circulation some time ago. Even as bent on obstruction as she had been, she was actually becoming concerned about them. “I swear,” she said, earnestly.

“You swear, what?” He asked, forcing her to speak her oath in full.

Reluctantly, Farra swore, “I will not do anything to try to harm you.”

“Or yourself.” Ezra’s voice was solemn and he held her chin firmly, so that she had no choice but to look in his eyes as she spoke.

“I swear I will not do anything to harm you or myself,” she said. 

He was being so in depth about all this. What if she had underestimated him? It would be a revelation if he turned out to be a thinking person, not just the brutal, thieving killer she had originally thought he was. In all her life, Farra had never broken her word. She didn’t want to do so now, but if her life was at stake...she would make that decision when she came to it.

“Alright, then, sweet Farra. Let us get some life back into these diminutive extremities of yours. I cannot have you losin’ limbs in my care.” He completely removed the rope from her wrists. The marks it left were livid against her pallid skin. Living as a floater didn’t give a person a lot of chances to take in much UV and it showed. 

Leaving her still harnessed to the copilot’s seat, Ezra chafed her hands between his. Hers were dead cold, but his hands were warm, if rough and large. After a short time of this, working her fingers back and forth and massaging the blood back in, he placed her hands back in her lap and laid his on them. “Squeeze,” he said.

To her surprise, she did. Weakly, yes, but a moment ago she would have sworn that she wouldn’t have been able to move them at all. “Thank you,” she said, in a moment of real gratitude. He had been so oddly polite this entire time, with his words, at least. It must be rubbing off. 

He studied her carefully. “Now that is somethin’ I thought I would have to wait a much longer time to hear from you, my dear. A genuine thank you.” He moved his gaze to their linked hands, breaking his serious perusal of her face. “Though I must say, you may regret your momentary lapse before too long. As I said, I intend to make good on our bargain, Farra. Do try to behave and I will endeavor to make my attentions as bearable as possible for you. I am many things, but I am not a cruel man, as a rule.”

She heard what he said, saw his look, felt his hands on hers and resigned herself, finally, to what she imagined was ahead. If she could trust his words, she might not be in for something so horrible as she had been fearing. Regardless, this was not what she wanted. “Fine,” she said flatly, looking anywhere except at him. “What do you want me to do?”

“You, yourself, need do nothin’. Leave it to me and try to relax.” He said softly, his lips close to her ear. With the same swift efficiency of motion she had seen him use before, he released the harness and pulled her up into his arms. He stood and waited a moment for her to find her feet.

She was a ragdoll. All those hours bound to the chair had made her boneless. She tried to raise her arms and found that folding them around his torso was her only option. He was much taller than she and the crown of her head nestled just below the top of his shoulder.

“Can you stand?” He asked, looking down at her.

His warm body against hers, his lean muscles and strong arms were overwhelming. Too much of him was touching her all at once. She felt fevered and would have fought him, if she had any strength left. Her words had escaped her again. Farra shut her eyes and shook her head against his shoulder. 

“Alright, then.” He scooped her up, one arm under her shoulders and one under her knees. “So high and mighty that she must be ferried everywhere, it seems.” 

His small joke did nothing to calm her nerves. She was still recovering from being restrained, dealing with the feel of him all around her and dreading what awaited her. Her hands, feet and legs tingled madly, almost to the point of pain as the circulation returned. She wrapped her limp arms around his neck for more stability and he carried her the few steps to the aft area of the pod. She noticed that the long flat cushions from the center bulkhead were now on the floor. One of the thin blankets had been spread on them and the meager pillows from the sleep kit placed at the top. A quick peek left and right told her that the rest of the space was neat and tidy. Just as she had suspected from the noises she heard, he had been clearing up. 

He laid her down on the padding and knelt over her. She turned her head away from him. One last attempt at negation of this whole situation she was in. She never should have listened to Damon when he said he was onto a sure thing. 

She felt Ezra’s lips on her bare neck, heard him breath in her scent, and shivered, deeply afraid.  _ I won’t feel this,  _ she thought. Her natural instinct was to fight, bite, claw, do whatever she could to stop this, but she knew she was no match for him, physically. She had to wait him out. Wait for a weak spot. 

Farra tried to block her mind off from her body. She thought about the view from the transport base, rebuilding the scaffolding and the gray-black background of space in her mind. Space and grey steel and stars on a blanket of black, repeating the thoughts over and over in her head.

Ezra undressed her slowly, pulling the loose knit sleep shirt over her head. Farra was bare underneath and her breasts slipped fetchingly from the fabric. The slight chill in the air caused her nipples to tighten and firm up like pink pearls against the sun-deprived translucence of her skin. He could see clearly the large vein that ran diagonally across her chest and traced it back and forth with one finger. Trailing the tips of his fingers down her chest, he felt gently along her ribcage to wrap around the dip of her waist, lingering in that space. He kept his hands there and passed his thumbs back and forth over her skin, tantalizingly faint. Then he began moving again, grazing her with his fingernails, drawing them up and down, creating pale pink lines from her belly to her collarbone, stimulating every nerve. 

Where his hands went, his mouth followed. Light kisses, pressing his lips to her skin, sometimes nipping with his teeth. Each caress was designed to set her skin on fire. He traced the line of her jaw and raked through her hair, spreading it out around her head. She tried desperately to stay still through all of this, but his lips and his hands were impossible to ignore. 

She gasped, pulled from behind her mental block by sensations she had never experienced before. His touch was so considerate, enticing, in the exploration of her body that she couldn’t ignore it. She had expected an onslaught. A violent taking. Not this slow progression of caresses, this careful manipulation. What she felt was so foreign and she couldn’t block it out. It felt…good. 

Ezra caught her attention returning to him and smiled at her until she opened her eyes and acknowledged him. His hands did not stop roaming her exposed body. She was so pliant, delicate, like the rarest flower petal. He took the opportunity provided by her shift in interest to reach an arm behind her back and arch her up to him. He framed her breast with his large hand and teased her nipple with a gentle pinch.

Farra drew in a sharp breath and stared up at Ezra. His smile, so infectious, became a glow as he saw that he had reached her. Her reactions were delicious, just as he had hoped. 

“Since it seems you have deemed me not totally abhorrent, would you be so kind as to assist me with my wardrobe?” He asked her, speaking against the space below her collarbone. The crown of his dark head rested just below her chin. 

Her answer was to gather his shirt and lift it slowly over his head. As she did so, his hands encircled her wrists, ready to immobilize her if she made a false move.  _ So he doesn’t actually trust me,  _ she thought.  _ Smart. _

She proceeded to remove the thin piece of clothing from his body, but before he released her wrists, he moved lower and took her small bud of a nipple into his mouth, sucking slightly. She moaned and arched under him, urging him to take her deeper. He smiled against her breast and obliged her, teasing the skin of her areola with his tongue. 

Until that moment, he had been lying next to her, half over and half off of her body. He hadn’t wanted to be too demanding too quickly. She was so obviously afraid of him, of this. He may have been a scoundrel, but he was not a brute. Now, her active participation showed him that he could be a bit more aggressive. He moved to cover her completely, his legs on either side of hers, arms bracing his weight, elbows on the mattress.

Farra hadn’t taken her eyes off of him once. Not since she had opened them with a moan and let him continue without fighting him. Now he was directly above her. His strong thighs bracketed her body and he closed the distance between them. They were breathing the same air. She could smell his breath, sharp and clean, and feel the warmth of it as he hovered there, so near her mouth. 

“I know we did not address this in our parlay,” he said quietly, his voice gravelly. “But I’m sure you know that a kiss is customary in these situations, and is considered quite within the bounds of normalcy. I will be making this a regular occurrence, Farra, and I do not want any surprises.” 

Farra was taken aback by his statement, the idea that even now he was referencing their accord, negotiating and probing with his words. Her response was to nod her head. She was delirious with sensation and it hadn’t even occurred to her to try to escape after those first few moments after he had laid her down. Her skin felt alive, and what he did to her body… If he wanted to do more, she wasn’t going to stop him. 

Confident that he had gained her compliance, that she wouldn’t bite or hurt him, Ezra grazed her mouth with his, as lightly as he had stroked her with his thumbs. He brushed her lips with his, a little harder with each pass. He drew her lower lip between his and sucked, just a little and when she opened her mouth, he tasted her. Lapping at her with his tongue, he mimed the penultimate act, in and out, he licked her there. She moaned and grazed her teeth over his tongue as he kissed her harder. 

This was nothing like her previous experiences. This musing progression. She knew from the vids and the foldies what this was all about. A girl couldn’t make it to age twenty and not know. Sex was everywhere, easy access, but she had never met “the one”. Her head was always in a book, or a flight manual, or learning the next gutter trade to get her to the next float. The rough touches and stolen kisses from the crass men she had been stuck with on the stations were nothing like this. She panicked and laid her hands flat against his firm chest. “I… I have to say something,” she said, turning her head from his kisses. 

“Then say it, girl,” he replied, holding his forehead to hers. “The hour draweth nigh.” Serious words, but his eyes twinkled and the lines at the corners multiplied. 

“I’ve never…,” she whispered, and this time it was his turn to be shocked. 

Ezra lifted himself a few centimeters, his eyebrows raised, and interjected, “Now, do not tell me that I may have the privilege to be your first experience in the art of love? That can not possibly be the case. For a beauty such as you to have remained unspoiled for all this time in this great world of trouble, would be a miracle indeed.” 

Farra, whose speech seemed to desert her at every turn, nodded at him solemnly. 

He balanced on one forearm and stroked his other hand down the side of her face to cup her chin. “Then I have struck an invaluable bargain, indeed, sweet Farra.” 

Hearing her name in his needy whisper made her shiver. This time with anticipation and not the persistent undermining terror she had felt before. This moment, this situation was right. Even if everything else had been so, so wrong. She did want this, she wanted him, after all. The apprehension and horror she had experienced over the last two cycles faded to the back of her mind and she raised her lips to his, lifting herself up from the floor to feel his body all along her own.

The growling moan that her capitulation wrenched from him was erotic in the extreme. The sound low and guttural, full of wanting. He redoubled his efforts, caressing, kissing her, pressing her down into the flat cushions with his strong, athletic body. They were still half clothed and he was quickly becoming frustrated with that fact.

He moved against Farra and slid his hand behind her, under the waistband of her pajamas and cupped her buttock. He kneaded her supple ass, the movement of his hand lowering her bottoms, exposing more and more of her body to his touch. 

She was so caught up in pleasure, that she wasn’t aware of being completely naked under him until he lifted her legs one at a time so that he was on his knees between them. He sat back on his heels, watching her.

Ezra ceased touching her and stayed there, like a man at a holy altar. Farra was spread out on the floor, eyes glazed and unfocused, hair a mess, splayed around her head like a gold halo, her chest heaving. The fierce hammer of her heart was clear in the vibration of the yielding arc of her breasts. Her waist and belly perfectly curved, the triangle of curls over her sex glistened with the wetness he had teased from her.

For once, Ezra seemed to be at a loss for words. Instead of his usual persuasive staccato, he simply reached forward and took her hands, placing them on his narrow hips above the waistband of his pants. The invitation implied, not spoken aloud. If this was what she wanted, if this was something more than a mercenary bargain, he wanted her to take the next step. 

Farra hooked her fingers into the elastic and pulled with no hesitation. His cock sprang free of the fabric, erect and laid nearly flat against his body. He was that hard.  _ For me, _ she thought, and unconsciously wet her lips. She couldn’t look away. 

When she licked her lips, his penis gave a small jerk and he said, “We will have time for that later, my dear. For now let us just enjoy this languorous initiation.” His grin couldn’t have been wider.

She looked up at him, not completely understanding his reference at first. Then it hit her and her face, neck and breasts flushed. The bright color spread under her pallor, but she smiled back at him and laughed a little. It was all the invitation he needed. 

Ezra lowered himself until he was resting part of his weight on Farra’s small frame, their bellies together. Her feet were planted on the floor and her knees rose on either side of his hips as he lay between them. His hard length rubbed against her pubic hair and the wetness over her clitoris. She was so sensitized that she drew in a quick breath at the contact. She took advantage of having him right above her to kiss him there. His silky chest hair tickled her lips and she did it again, a little harder. His sharp intake of breath was music to her ears. 

He locked eyes with her as he reached between them, drawing his fingers over her slick vulva. The hot, wet folds parted easily and he slid his middle finger farther inside without any resistance. He held her gaze as he stroked her insistently. 

Farra made sharp keening noises she was not even aware of. She tried to lift her hips, to take more of him into herself, needing the feeling of, something, inside her. But he held her firmly to the floor, not letting her move. This was his show and she was the object of his attention. Right now, he would do what he wanted, and she would accept it. 

“Just relax, sweetheart. Give me a little of your trust. Upon my oath, you will not regret it,” he uttered into the shell of her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth and pulled gently.

She did relax, then, against all odds, and let his touch and the barest rake of his teeth on her skin take her to new heights. Her hands roamed his sleek, muscled back, over the sharp wings of his shoulder blades. She reveled in the feel of his skin. It was damp with perspiration, but smooth under her fingertips and so wonderfully warm.

He moved his finger in and out of her, and Farra felt some discomfort. Not enough to override the pleasure, but a mild pinch inside of herself. Her vagina was so tight around him, as it was, but he added another finger, scissoring and stretching her further. Ezra worked her like that, getting her used to him. 

She was so slick that he gasped against her breast, where he was kissing her, worshipping her. His thumb brushed her most sensitive bud and she bucked against him involuntarily. Ezra’s grip on her kept her from moving much, but she was entranced with every sensation. Something was building inside of her and she had never felt this way before.

Their bodies writhed together, the perspiration from their shared actions making them glow under the sensor lights. Farra hooked her legs behind Ezra’s back, ran her hands over his shoulders and finally found her voice.

“Please, Ezra. Please, I want...I want you to…” She breathed.

He couldn’t resist this opportunity to make her acknowledge her need, “What do you want, Farra?” He asked, and pushed into her, holding still. Withholding his caresses and any further stimulation. 

She bit her lip and her eyes rolled upward, “I want  _ you _ ,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t have to say it.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Farra?” He asked harshly. 

“Yes,” she groaned, trying to make him push his fingers further into her needy hole.

“Then ask me nicely. Say please. Say it for me,” he demanded, ravaging her throat, leaving dark suckling marks as he kissed her.

“Please fuck me,” Farra begged him. “Please, please fuck me!” She was so far gone that she would have said anything to him to get to the peak she felt was just outside of her grasp. To make his hands move over her body again. 

With that, Ezra began to guide his thick length inside her. His earlier efforts had gotten her pussy so wet that her creamy juices flowed around his rock hard cock and coated her all the way down her ass. He shut his eyes and beads of sweat gathered at his hairline as he tried to hold himself in check. Her walls clenched around the tip of his swollen member pressing into her, deeper and deeper, chasing that sensation of her body’s need for him. 

Farra panted repeatedly, “Oh, oh, oh,” like a chant. She tried to do as he had said and willed herself to relax as he invaded her body. The stretch of him inside of her was such a strong, sweet feeling, but he was so big. The slickness he had coaxed from her was her only salvation. She kept her hips still under his, not wanting to ruin anything through her inexperience. The muscles inside of her were firing rhythmically, the way they did when she touched herself in private. It had always felt good when she used her fingers on herself, but this was much more powerful. The friction of his hot, hard cock inside of her raised that feeling to new peaks. 

Ezra paused as he felt resistance against the sensitive head of his penis, knowing he would hurt her, but wanting this too much.  _ She had begged him, for Kevva’s sake!  _ He also trusted that he could bring her back, too, to the pleasure he felt coursing around him. The shiver of her body under his as he took her told him that her need was great. 

“Little bird,” he said gravely, using the name to hopefully show her this was not a mean thing he intended to do. “Little bird, there will be some pain for you now, but that is the way of the world. I do not take joy in this, but if you will trust me, joy we may have.” He gazed at her earnestly, his eyes centimeters from her own. He held her immobile under him as he waited, in pain and pleasure, for her acknowledgement. 

Farra nodded and Ezra claimed her mouth in a deep kiss as he thrust himself fast into her. The sharp pain drew a cry from her, but it was muffled by his lips on hers. She felt so full, so overstimulated. The pain subsided quickly, but it was still a shock after all the indulgent touches and sweet pleasure he had brought from her body. 

When her breathing became regular again, Ezra allowed himself to slide in and out in slow strokes. He angled his movement to drag himself across her clitoris, building her arousal again. She arched her back with each thrust, each time drawing him over that part of her that was more alive than she had ever been able to achieve before. Instinctively, she moved with him, as he delved harder into her pussy. 

He began to talk to her then, but she couldn’t keep up with what he was saying. Filthy things he wanted to do to her, descriptions of what he was doing that moment, how she felt, wrapped around him, her wetness, her drooling cunt, he called it. How he loved to feel her squeezing his cock. He went on and on. She shuddered and felt herself coming apart. Her pussy clenched and tightened, drawing his length into her again and again as she saw stars and swirls of color behind her eyelids. Her whole body tingled and vibrated and she cried out over and over, “Oh!! Oh my god!” as she came. 

The overwhelming feelings were still at their peak when she felt Ezra change from his steady rhythm with a sharp cry. He began thrusting into her harder even than before, holding her body to his firmly. His actions drew more and stronger contractions from her dripping hot pussy and she screamed in earnest; a wordless expression of her overwhelming pleasure as she felt the searing wetness of his cum spurt inside of her. He seated himself fully inside of her, withdrawing only slightly each time his cock pulsed against her walls, nearly in time with her own internal spasms. They wound down their movements in sync, slowing and then finally ceasing altogether. 

Ezra collapsed on top of her, completely spent. They lay there, wet from their exertion and arousal, exhausted. Farra smiled when she realized he had actually stopped talking. 

“Hey,” she said, after a minute or two of the silence. Her voice cracked, “You’re kind of crushing me.” The air had been pushed out of her lungs and she had trouble drawing a breath under the weight of him. 

His arms shook as he lifted himself off her and shifted to her side, disengaging their bodies. Ezra was flushed underneath his naturally olive skin color, and his hair was soaked with sweat. Farra lay flat, breathing deeply, and he adjusted himself to rest his head on her chest. 

_ How interesting,  _ she thought. She felt his need to be held almost psychically. It was as if the afterglow of their lovemaking had given her some odd insight into this contradiction of a man. He spoke and spoke, and said utterly filthy things to her, used her body and made her feel so many things in the process. He killed and stole and bargained. And all along, some part of him craved  _ this.  _ He needed this attention from her.

_ This is an essential thing to him, _ she thought, and wrapped her arm around his neck, draping it over his shoulder, gathering his overheated body to hers. He laid his arm over her abdomen and cuddled her close. The light from the primary planet reflected through the window, illuminating both of them, naked and spent on the floor of their tiny pod. 


End file.
